The Angel of Music
by Cheri Lune
Summary: 3 years after Christine and Raoul de Changy have been married, a newborn comes into their life: Erika. It's been 16 since Christine's death in a car accident, and Erika finally descovers the secret her father has been keeping from her...


The Angel of Music:

The Tale of Erika De Changy, and Erik, her Angel of Music

Shh... Come closer child and let me tell you the story of a man who had a heart that could hold the Empire of the World and in the end had to content himself with a cellar; surely we must pity the Opera Ghost? Years ago, in Paris, a young woman named Christine Daae had been sitting alone in a dormitory inside the Opera Populare. Now young Christine had lived with her father as a child, her mother dead, her father died when she was seven, leaving her to live and train in the dormitories to be a dancer. At the age of twenty-six Christine was alone one evening in the dormitory and heard a voice, a _man's voice._ This voice spoke to her, and told her he was the Angel of Music spoke of in many tales that she had been told about as a child, the story of Little Lotte. Now Christine heard this voice, and he would teach her to sing. The voice said his name was Erik. So Erik would speak to Christine often, but one New Year's Eve, a young patron, a man named Raoul De Changy, had returned to the opera hall, seeing Christine again, and at the party, a masked ball of the sorts, a man dressed as Red Death. Now this opera had been haunted for five years. By a figure merely known as O.G or, the Opera Ghost. Now Erik, Red Death, and O.G were all in the same. And Christine knew as well. Now, that very same evening, when Christine had lead Raoul into Box Five, Erik's private box, he threatened to remove Erik's mask and see who loved who. Christine begged Raoul not to do it, in the _name of their love,_ not to do it. Yet he was slowed and was distracted. Not much later, perhaps a month or two, Erik had Christine below the Opera with him, and Raoul was lead by a Persian to Erik's home. Raoul and the Persian had fallen into a trap though; they fell directly into the torture chamber, a room of four mirrors. Erik had agreed to let Raoul and the Persian go, but Christine had first kissed him, causing his course of action. Erik was said to have died three weeks later. But wrong they were. Even beside the fact of Erik's body being found next to the well with Ms.Daae's ring on his hand, everyone knows an angel can't die. Not even an Angel in hell. Now fifteen years later, Erik has returned.

Chapter one

Below the stage in the theater, below the boiler room, through the underground tunnels there was still life. A large underground abode was made deep within the heart of the theater; it was a place where music was born and ghost stories began. A large pipe organ lay against one of the walls and surrounding it was a mass of Persian furniture and treasures. A shelf with an array of books stood opposite of the pipe organ. This was the lair to the infamous specters of the Opera Populaire. Settled in a large tweed armchair sat the Ghost's accomplice, his blood and only trusting friend fooling with the strings on his violin experimenting with different sounds. To the world above they were known only as the spirits who haunt the theater, but in their home they knew each other only as William and Erik. The elder entered the small living quarters tossing his cloak off to the side.  
"And how are our new managers?" asked William as he tapped the bow against his knee. "Did they get our note?" The Opera Ghost settled himself at the bench of his pipe organ and shook his head.  
"The thought of a Phantom is nothing more than a joke to those two imbeciles," he hissed bitterly.  
"Trust me Erik, they will believe soon enough," William sat up and placed his violin back in its case. Growling, the elder brother ran his finger along one of the curves carved on his bench.  
"I overheard them speaking of a gala tomorrow night. Maybe the crew will alert the two that the ghost is no laughing matter." William groaned and shook his head.  
"Oh no, the crew? They make up such dreadful stories! Exspely that pest Count Changy, ever since his brother's death and his marriage to Christine he's been on my case. Burning flames and floating heads and do not forget the little spectra of light that supposedly floats around and hypnotizes people." He snorted and leaned back into his chair. "I swear those stories get more ridiculous every day."  
"I understand…But perhaps those silly tales are just what we need to get our new friends to believe that the Phantom does exist. Just to be careful though, I'd like you to go to that gala tomorrow night and blend in with the crowd. Try and find out what you can about those two men." This made the younger brother smile, for he rarely had the opportunity to go out right in the public eye of the theater inhabitants.  
"Really? I do like that sound of that Erik." The Phantom got up from the bench and made his way over to his younger sibling.  
"William I don't want you giving yourself away. I will also be informing Madam Giry to inform that others that you are not to be mentioned at all. So be sure to wear a disguise so that you are not recognized." William's expression dropped and he glowered over at his brother who was looking over sheet music that had been composed earlier. He hissed a little and brushed a few strands of his chestnut-brown hair away from his face.  
"Sweeping me under the rug Erik?" The Phantom put the sheet music down and a soft growl grumble sounded in his throat.  
"It's not like that William. It's just for the time being as far as we know these new owners could be a threat."  
"We've dealt with the police before Erik," William explained and then gave a simple shrug of his shoulders. "They gave up after a week of searching and we were left alone." He chuckled and shook his head. "I am not afraid of those men Erik; they pose no threat to us." The ghost's brother moved over to the bookshelf and began to climb up the ladder of it. "You worry about nothing."  
"I worry about you. Who knows what advancements have been made between then and Halot's retirement? No…Until I know for sure that we are safe there will be only one ghost haunting this theater."  
"Is it that easy to toss me to the side Erik?"  
"William…"  
"Or is it that you just want all the glory of the Phantom for yourself." The phantom narrowed his eyes from under his mask.  
"I didn't choose this life William," he growled with venom in his voice. "You've seen the way the people act out there; you are the only one I can truly trust and I do not want to take any risk in losing you."  
The Opera Ghost stepped back just as his brother leaped off the top of the ladder and right where his elder had been standing prior.  
"You treat me like a little child so often Erik," he hissed bitterly. "And I suppose you don't want me attending the operas either less someone sees me with you in Box 5. Tell me Opera Ghost, what master plan do you have for that? Keep me under lock and key in this labyrinth?"  
The Phantom growled and waved his brother off as he moved over to an old empty pipeline which had been transformed into a makeshift fireplace and began to put some wood inside it. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to keep you from the opera that we love so much. You will have a perfectly fine view from the catwalks. A sarcastic bark of a laugh echoed through the underground lair.  
"The catwalks indeed! They haven't been improved since we came here and are hardly stable at all! Not even Joseph Buquet stays on them for long periods of time!" William's fury grew greater as his brother seemingly ignored him and lit the wood on fire.  
"Hardly anyone ever goes up in that particular section. It should be perfectly safe."  
"No one goes up there Erik because they don't wish to fall to their death right in the middle of Faust!"  
"Those catwalks are fine William! You'll be perfectly safe!" The Opera Ghost turned around to look at his brother. "Trust me; I wouldn't send you there if I wasn't sure you would be safe." William's angry look slowly melted away to that of an exhausted one.  
"Very well Erik, I trust you." The Opera Ghost sighed and made a motion for his brother to sit down next to him.  
"I'm sorry about all this William; you shouldn't have to deal with all this." The younger brother settled down in front of the fire and held his hands out in front of it to warm himself. "There is still plenty of time to go out and have a real life with the outside world."   
"Bah!" he growled. "I chose to stay here with you Erik, don't act like you are forcing me to remain." He turned his head and frowned. "Are you still wearing that damned thing? Take it off." The Opera Ghost complied and slowly removed the white mask from his face. "Honestly Erik, you know I hate it when you wear that thing down here." The Phantom looked sadly at his brother.  
"You really don't see anything wrong when you look at my face, do you William?" he asked in a whisper.  
"Erik, you know the answer to that question. We been together for over twenty years and I've never thought there was anything wrong with you." A small smile crept up the Opera Ghost's face and he rested a hand on his siblings shoulder.  
"If only the rest of the world was like you my dear brother."

Chapter two

Our story truly begins as a young woman scampers through the halls of the old opera, searching for her father, bursting into his office, she cries to him in the presence of a manager.

"As I was saying Raoul, your daughter will be-"cutting off the manager the girl shouts:

"PAPA! It is not fair! I cannot find my violin! Madam Meg Giry won't, even help me find it!" The girl bawled, hoping her father to listen.

"-Raoul, this is foolish! Soon you must tell her!"

"Nonsense Sir! Now what is it you wish to tell me Erika? Well come now you have my attention. Where was the last place you had your violin?" Erika stopped to think. She turns her back to her father to give a moments peace. But Monsieur Mann spoke up, fearing of the fate of the young Changy.

"Raoul, does she not know of the man she was named of? Does she not know of the angel of music? Do you tell her nothing? This is the time of which she needs you most, why with Christine gone she shall need your guidance!" Mann shouted. Raoul sighed; the sound of her father sighing caused young Erika to turn her head in thought.

"Father, who is this angel of music?" Erika looked to her aging father. Her mother had died years before. She was going to tell her all about her adventures but said nothing, her father owned the opera house, but only forbid her of one area: Box Five.

"Never you mind Erika! Why don't you look for your violin? The angel of music is not for you to know." Raoul glared at his daughter. She frowned, but nodded and left the office, only to press her ear to the door to hear the conversation.

"Raoul you must tell her of her mother! She must learn the truth, and you must let her know of the angel!" Mann exploded, outraged at Raoul's foolishness. Raoul closed his eyes and turned his head to the portrait on the wall as to speak to Christine.

"I promised I would never mention Erik again. I promised that to Christine before she died. She did not want the angel to return. And I will carry his story to my grave." Raoul looked up. His eyes full of the melancholy of which had built up over many years. The monsieur faced Raoul, unaware of the sorrows and fears of which were confined in his soul. "I will tell her. But if my soul is to join Christine's in heaven, no angel of music shall be sent to her. Not by me. Never..." Raoul turned away from the portrait, facing Mann. Erika turned away from the door. Who was this of angel of music? Why didn't her father want her to see the angel? Erika sobbed for a moment and dashed off to her mother's old dressing room. She burst through the door and tripped over a small box positioned in front of her door. Erika stood for a moment and lifted the package and started at it for a minute. One the label, written in red ink was a note entitled to her name.

Young Madam Changy,

Your time has come; the Angel of Music is waiting you. While your search for your violin, you will find me! People will not believe you if you speak of me, perhaps your father, but no others. You young Changy, are among very few. You will find it, an item which you have only read about in stories, and which will once more be seen in the opera hall. You Young Changy can make my song take flight

O.G,

Your Angel of Music

Erika's eyes widen. She felt as though this was a joke. But who else could have known of her father's conversation. But as out of air, Erika heard a voice.

"Fear not Young Changy. I am here. No one is going to hurt you. I am the Angel of Music. I have come to you because of your mother Christine. She has also heard the Angel. But your father…" The voice was deep and hypnotizing. Erika looked to the small package and looked around. No one was in the room but her. She looked around, no one. Not a soul, up down. She looked around, seeing herself in the mirror. She approached the mirror. Merely staring herself in the eye, she watched as her reflection began to swirl, her face changing, she stumbled, landing next to a mask. She held it in her hand, in would cover only half of one's face. The mask was new, or so it seemed. It was a purely white, glinting in the light. She looked to the mask, feeling a new sensation rushing through her veins. Erika paused.

"…Who are you? You cannot be the Angel of Music! You are said to be mere legend to Madam Meg. But how is it possible? My mother sent you? How? WHY?" Erika almost shouted. She turns away from the mask and returns to the mirror staring into her eye, unable to move. Unable to control her train of thought.

"Young Changy, does your father tell you nothing? I once visited your mother as well. But you are very fortunate. Your grandfather was not alive to watch your mother prosper. But I cannot show myself, for…reasons of which you need not know. But I assure you; I am here to guide you. Fear not." The voice somewhat sighed. Erika was confused. She had never even heard of an Angel of Music before her father's conversations. She at first merely pondered. She looked to the ceiling as though to speak directly to the angel.

"Where are you exactly? I can hear you, but I can't seem to see you." Erika turned, glancing around the room searching for the angel. A sigh followed a long silence.

"Exactly?" The voice asked.

"Yes. Exactly." Erika answered sternly. Not wanting herself to seem weak.

"Right next to you of course." She turned to face on side, seeing no one.

"That's impossible. No one is next to me. And the only other thing to my side is-"

"The mirror." Erika got the clue, and turned to face the mirror. In the mirror she saw a stranger reflection then her usual. She walk to the mirror and looked at the figure, the mask which had been on the floor now covered his face, his black cape flowing behind him, his brown hair slicked back, and large hat covering it. Her reflection smiled and approached as he her. She stepped back, only to see the figure continue forward. She watched in astonishment stepped out of the mirror. Erika gasped and fell to the floor, landing next to a mask opposite to the one the angel was wearing, it would cover the right side of one's face; the mask shone a magical black. She looked up, seeing the angel holding out his hand to her, to assist. She looked to his face, seeing only the truth and toke his hands. He lifted her to her feet and smiled; he turned away and began to walk to the mirror. She opened her mouth, as though to speak, but the angel turned at smiled, placing his finger to her lips. He smiled, as well did Erika.

"This is our little secret young Changy; no one must know, not your father, not Meg, not a soul, understood Miss Erika?" The Angel looked to her, staring into her eyes, his stories weaving into her mind, at first Erika smiled, but soon found her voice.

"When will I see you again? How? And what am I to call you?" Erika looked back to the Angel for one moment more, wishing to hear his name.

"When you sing, I will be there. I will be with you. Never forget it. And... You _my_ Angel may call me by my name." The Angel smiled and turned back to the mirror. He turned for a last time. "Think of what your father calls you." The angel walked through the mirror and faded as he walked away into the never-ending darkness and depression of the mirrors shining glances. Erika sat to think. She thought for a moment before her eyes grew wide once more and she shouted his name, half to herself.

"Erik..." Erika was astonished. She had been named after the Angel of Music!

Chapter three 

Erika stood in shock. Seventeen years of living with Raoul de

Changy, the man she knew as a father, and not the slightest mention of his name. She stared at her feet; her father had never kept secrets before, so why start now? Erika turned and sat in the old sofa; it's colors fading day after day. Something the Angel had said about her mother sparked her imagination. Erika searched the dressing room for a sign of Erik, she found only the package. But seeing as how it may assist this nightmare, she thought it would be ethical to open it. Within the very box sat the masks, conjoined by an unknown force.

Erika lifted the masks. The two panels fit together like a puzzle, one covering half of a face, the two covering the entire face. Erika rolled the two between her hands, when Erika looked at the back of the masks; she saw a small inscription written in red in on the back:

Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime.

Lead me save me from my solitude,

Say you want me with you,

Here beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too,

_Christine_, that's all I ask of...…

The final word had faded, but Erika knew the song. One evening her mother and father had told her to go to bed, because she had a recital in the morning, but she had dashed around the halls, but silently enough not to be heard. She had heard he mother and father sing the song to each other, singing with hearts full of love. She stood there, her eyes beginning to flood with tears, she promised herself she would never cry for her mother, but it felt better late than never. Erika fell back on to the couch and continued to cry. Not only did she fell horrible because of her father's secret, but also now she felt as though she could have resisted the angel and never have let the locked away emotions break free. She sobbed for the years she spent acting as though her mother had never meant anything to her. Erika turned away from the mirror, but felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned, expecting to see the angel, but rather seeing her father. He looked at her, his eyes as red as hers, but rather than with sorrow, with fury. Her father glared at her, never moving his eyes.

"I know you've heard him. I could hear him outside your door. Promise me you will never speak to him again, and beware my pleas Erika. Promise me you shall never remove his mask, you probably will not listen now, but believe me, he is the Angel from Hell! Erika, if you continue to see the angel. I may never see _you_ again. Erika. Please" Her father looked to the mask in her hand, his faced now drained of color, not even daring to look back to her, focusing only on the mask. "W-where d-did you g-get Th-this!" Raoul almost shouted, Erika lowered her head, as to not look to her father's face.

"Erik gave them to me father. He promised me he'd be here, father, he is all I have, and I know an angel would not lie to me as you have. I hate to say it father, but I will see him again. He cares father, he knows who I am, and he was here Papa! He was here and his voice now even fills me with the most joyous feeling ever known to man, a feeling so splendorous that there is no other word for it then the words of Compassion.." Erika didn't look up but she didn't need to, she knew that her father was looking away from her; she knew his face was wrinkled with the worries of the fact that she may repeat the fate of her mother. Her father sighed once more, and exited the room, leaving Erika alone.. Or so she thought. Erika stood from her seat but felt another hand on her shoulder, she turned to see even Erik frowning. She looked to her feet, but Erik spoke up.

"I'm proud young Changy, you acted as your mother would have. If Daddy Daae had been alive. But indeed there is something I wish to show you, of course, you must promise me a small favor." Erik held out his hand, caressing Erika's in his, Erik slipped on a small ring, gold of course, a small garnet within the center, and small diamonds surrounding it. "This was the very ring your mother wore. Promise me you will never remove it, if you do, I can't protect you, but come there is quite a bit you must see before the curtain falls." This reminded Erika, her friend Morgan Giry was a dancer, and her recital had been that day. Erika toke a moment, but nodded her head. Erik toke her hand in his and lead her to the mirror. She watched as the mirror moved to the side revealing a small corridor. Erik hesitated for a minute and returned to the room, leaving Erika by the entryway. He strolled over to the sofa, lifting the mask, and taking only the black half. He returned, seeing Erika's confused expression. Erik smiled. And toke her hand once more and rushed her down the corridors, leaving no trace of their visit. As Erik seemed to rush on, his grip tightened.

"Erik where are you taking me? Where are we anyway?" Erika looked around, trying to look for a familiar icon. She remembered that the old managers used to say there were hidden passages in the opera hall. Erik stopped for a moment and looked back at her, his mask seeming to glow. Erika could barely see, but knew a smile had just crossed his face.

"Home young Daae, we are going home. And you yourself have been home all along!" Erik laughed and continued on. Erika continuously looked back, hoping to see her father, Morgan, or even Alan rushing after them. But no one. Even the dimming light of the dressing room seemed miles away. Erika tried to contemplate what Erik meant. Then realized what her father had meant, he had tried to silence the managers because of the Opera Ghost! He truly did have passageways within the opera! Erika tried to see Erik, but with every moment she thought he turned once more leading down misty halls, as though looking for something. Erika pulled them both to a stop.

"Erik, truly, where is this home. I know you mean a home beneath the opera, but how is it possible?" Erik smiled and looked to an old boat leaning against the crumbling walls of the corridor, he laughed, humorously though, as though not to upset her as to insult her either.

"Why my dear, nothing is impossible. And soon you shall see the lake, and you shall know but I wish to warn you now, beware of the grasshopper!" Erik started to laugh again. Erika was now very perplexed.

"Erik, why do we beware of the grasshopper?" Erik laughed once more, mockingly this time.

"For the grasshopper jumps jolly high!" Erik chuckled, looking back on the memory. He had almost had Christine. _Almost._ Erik stopped, as well did Erika she stopped and crossed in front to see what he had stopped for, to see a beautiful glistening lake, shimmering with shades of vibrant blues and greens, blending together to cause it to turn and swirl itself into a work of art. Erika reached forward to touch the water, only to have Erik to pull her back suddenly.

"No. No, you mustn't go into the lake. The Siren is there, she would pull you into the waters, pulling you down until you died, as she did to your step father." Erik sighed. "It was an accident. But they wouldn't listen." Erika looked to Erik eyes wide.

"You mean my father had a brother?" Erik nodded slowly.

"Yes indeed he did, his name was Philippe, a count.. But do not worry. You will be fine as long as you cross the lake with me." Erik tried to smile to Erika, but failed miserably. Erika knew he meant well, but she also kept her father's warning in mind. She wished to know what fate had truly befallen on her mother, who many said was truly the Angel of Music. 'She puts all other human sounds to shame!' they would say. Erika toke a final look at the opposite side of the lake. Hoping that now, although she was with her Angel, she would forever be free of the many lies her father had built around their entire lives. Erika did not know whom to trust, but she knew that her angel would stay be her side, as long as she would need him he would be there. She knew that she would never leave as her mother did.

Chapter four

Erika sat in the boat, Erik rowing it with great force. Erika looked into the water, deep.. Depressing grays and blacks.. Endless.. Erika turned her attention back to Erik smiling, looking in his eyes. An angel. _Her_ _angel._ But Erika wondered to herself, obliviously he is the angel of music, he wouldn't lie to me. But if he is indeed the angel, why does he hide his face behind the glowing mask of white? Erika's head was spinning off of her shoulders. Her mind traveled, listening to the faint rhythm of a pipe organ in the distance. Erika looked to Erik. His eyes glowing, even against the dark, cold chill of the cellar. Erik stopped rowing for a moment, and held her hand in his, the two sat there for a few minutes, Erika wanted to take in every detail to record in her memory, so she would never forget. His soft blue eyes, threatening and loving, his brown hair, slicked back and never out of place, his smile. Constant and caring. Erika smiled. Love struck by the sight of her angel. Her father had warned her otherwise of this angel, but her mind told he was the enemy, but her heart told her to refuse her thoughts and follow her heart, to let it be her guide. Erika merely stared at the sight before her, her angel of music. His hand still caressing hers. Erik turned his face away, leaving Erika to stare at the half of the mask, which covered his face. Erika lifted her opposite hand, tracing the outline of the mask, but before she could finish Erik pulled back and released his grip on her hand. Erik looked back to her, fury now shown in his eyes instead of the content care once seen before.

"You must promise me, never again to touch my mask. You do not wish to see what lies behind it.." Erik's voice filled with both sorrow and anger as well, Erika was taken aback by the abrupt change of emotion, and Erika merely nodded. But for Erik it wasn't enough. "Promise me!" Erik almost shouted. Loud enough where Erika saw bubbles rising from the siren below them.

Erik was enraged; Erika saw why Meg had once told her that he was the Angel in Hell. Erika was shaking, her voice raspy, yet she answered.

"Yes Erik. I promise. Never again." For a minute Erika had actually feared him. She looked up, her eyes now used to the darkness, Erik faced his feet. He looked around the age of fifteen or sixteen, around Erika's age at least. But what struck her as unusual was that she had often seen the old newspaper clipping in Mme.Giry's room stating that Erik was dead. Although Erik looked as young as she, her mother had once been with him, believing him to be her age. Could this possibly be the same angel? Erika turned her face away. Hoping to have a moment to think. She slowly twined her body so that she would be facing the splendor of which Erik called home on the other side of the lake. But shifted so her eyes could meet his.

"Erik," She began her question. "Why do you wear that mask?" Erik stopped abruptly. The oar staying within the water. His eyes down continuously, never showing either half of his face. Erika stood, being careful not to tip over the boat and walked to his side. She took his hand in hers, there was a small surging chill running through her as she held his hand as close as she dared. "Erik, you can tell me. I'm your friend. You can. _Trust me._" When the final sound of the word 'trust' weaved it's way out of her mouth, Erik raised his eyes to her level. He smiled dimly, hoping she'd forget her question. But Erika's look of confusion and disappointment flooded the boat they stood in. Erik looked up. Fearing if the answer he gave wasn't good enough for Erika that once more she'd try to see who he was. Erik was left shaking his head in disappointment and nothing more, but alas he spoke.

"It is a long story, one which we do not have the time for, if we hesitate any longer then your father may come looking here. He knows where this house is. Of course, he only knows how to enter through the torture chamber." Erik laughed to himself at Raoul's stupidity. "But that is not why I have brought you here. But I shall tell you this. If there is ever a time, when you feel alone, or lost among a world of people who won't accept you for whom you really are, you can come here. This is one of very few places I call home, and, my home is your home." Erik turned and smiled, never reveling his teeth, or even the other side of his face. Erika had thought she saw some of it in the mirror but was unsure or what she truly saw, what she believed was that a monster had stood in the mirror. A beast, one whose face was anything but that of an angel's Erika knew this was not her Angel's face.. She stared into the distance. Seeing the glory of the home of which Erik thrived and which many elders told stories of. The lake seemed to turn to glass as the boat finally stopped at the shore; Erik rested his hand on her shoulder.

" Don't get up. I'll help." Erik rose out of the boat and slowly stood, aware that the weight within the boat might tip. He stepped on to the land, his feet seeping into the dirt's moist soft covering. Erik took Erika's hand and lifted her delicately out of the boat, making sure she wouldn't slip and fall into the water. Erika smiled as their hands caressed the other, never a simple release. Erika soon forgot her hand was in is and merely smiled. Erik turned to the house, leading her in by the pull of the hand. Within the house, a small sofa sat in the middle of a room. Multiple doors were shown, perhaps even a few that weren't seen. Erika saw a pipe organ sitting off to the side. A small music book on a stand not far from it. Erika looked to the organ, a tune continuously played. Repeating. Repeating. Erika turned to Erik, hearing him humming to the tune of the music. Erik led her to the sofa and offered her the seat. She smiled and sat down. Erik turned to the pipe organ and began to play a rhythmic melody; seeming to hypnotize young Erika she slowly stood an approached Erik by the organ. She leaned on the edge of the organ listening to the pure flow of music, weaving many tales of adventure and magic around the two. Their minds wandering, following wherever the music was to take them. Then Erika recognized the music. And as though Erik had said it, merely by playing the music, Erika sang with all the heart she had.

"_I wish I could but know who was he,_

_That addressed me,_

_If he was noble, or at least what his name is.." _

Erika couldn't stop herself, she tried but her soul refused. Erik stood and turned his face away from the keys as his fingers ran over them, but smiled merely to hear her sing. He smiled and played the same arrangement. Waiting to hear her voice, she sang once more, her voice flooding the opera house above them.

"_Oh. How strange!_

_Like a spell does the evening bind me!_

_And a deep languid charm_

_I feel without alarm_

_With its melody enwind me_

_And my heart subdue.."_

Erika's voice was heard above inside the opera. People shouted calling her a specter, shouting to show herself. But over the music, Erika heard her father's voice:

"Erika? Erika! Where are you! Please, show yourself daughter!" Raoul shouted. She didn't need to see through the floorboards to know that her father was knelling on the floor with his head in his hands. Afraid to lose the only thing that he had left in his life other then the mere miserable memories of Christine.

Chapter Five

Erika stood still, her eyes wide with astonishment. She lifted her gaze to the floors them, then to Erik.

"I've never sung like that before. I never even knew I could sing like that." Erik was in shock. Erik stood and stepped away from the organ.

"Well, then again you've never had an angel of music before either!" Erik smiled and sat down on a small sofa identical to the one in her mother's dressing room. He sighed and looked to a door, shining like a mirror. Erika noticed the door and noticed that there was no way whatsoever to open it. Erika approached the door, examining the fine details. Around the door's frame were engraved roses twisting and entwining around the others, the red of the pedals shone brighter then the glass of the door itself. Erika glanced around, noticing a small bag by the organ chair. Erika walked to the organ, the sound of her feet echoing through the cellars. _Thump. Snap. Thump._ Erika looked to the music placed near the organ, nothing written on the staff, no time signature, no derivations, nothing at all. Erika reached out to touch the bag, but Erik dashed off his seat and grabbed the bag out of Erika's hands. Erika's eyes met his; his eye didn't carry the same compassion they once had.

"Erika, you must never open this bag, the key to the torture chamber, and you don't need to see that room. It took me years to retrieve the key. Now I can say you are free to enter any other area in my opera house. _But not the chamber!"_ Erika was angered. She couldn't stand it.

"_Your_ opera house? I believe this opera house belong to Raoul and Christine de Changy. We own the deed. And if the law is correct, this opera house belongs to only them." Erik was fuming, outraged at Erik's speech. "So what do you have to say for yourself?" Erik glared at Erika, recalling the same mistakes he had made with Christine and quickly apologized.

"I'm sorry. It's been a while since Firmin and Andre had been in charge, they used to feel the same way. But of course, I've been in this opera house since before your father was born. So I guess I'm just referring to it as my own. Don't worry though."

Erik turned to the door, grasping the keys tighter then ever. He began to walk toward the door, stepping out on to the cold frosted soil. Erika turned and followed, trying to make sure he wouldn't leave her behind.

"It took years you know, getting this key out of the lake. I first threw it in when your mother had tried to take it to see the torture chamber. It took quite a while to get it from the siren, but she was easily persuaded. She was furious when she realized I had obtained the key. If she could leave that lake she would have killed my by now. But for my luck, she can't leave the lake, and beside that fact, angels can't die!" Erik stared out into the water, Erika followed suit, seeing a young woman sitting on a small stone out in the lake, humming a small sea tune to herself, but loud enough to be heard from a distance. Erik turned and smiled but shouted to the siren. "See? If you could leave that lake. Key word. Could!" Erika laughed in unison with Erik, soon noticing that his hand was holding hers, she blushed, so did he, they turned away, embarrassed. Erika smiled though, she understood that Erik liked her. But what troubled her is that she liked him back. Erika looked above and heard the shouting and yelling, running as well. As people scuttled around the stage looking for her. Erik looked to Erika, knowing what she was thinking and walked to the boat. Erika faced her feet and followed him, she didn't want to leave, not so soon, but she wouldn't dare argue with him. The two sat in the boat, but before Erik could grab the oar, Erika did.

"I want to try to get across the lake. Would you mind?" Erik smiled and nodded, allowing her to push the boat. Erika had to put all the force in her arms into the oar as to be able to push the boat, Erik noticed her struggling and pulled another oar of the side of the boat and helped her oar the boat. Erika and Erik made their way through the lake until Erik put his hand on her shoulder, causing her to stop, glancing over her shoulder, standing still, being careful not to tip over the boat. Erik still held the key, sighing and begin to speak in Erika in a faint whisper.

"Erika, I have to leave you as soon as we return to the mirror, afterward, you will see me only once more at the up coming Masquerade for the theater, trust my, I'll stand out," Erik pulled out the black mask and placed it to Erika's face. "Wear this, so I'll know it's you, I'll wear my half of the mask, so you'll know it's me, alright?" Erika nodded and pressed the oar into the water, Erik fell back, but Erika grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into the boat, but noticed as a webbed hand surged out of the water and tried to grad her leg, Erika fell into the boat and backed away from the edge. Erik merely stood there. Eyes wide, staring at Erika in the middle of the boat. "You..You..You saved my life. Why?" Erika looked up, noticing his gaze and smiled. Just smiled, but stood, and looked him in the eyes as she picked up the oars, and trust one at him.

"Why do you think? That's what friends are for Erik. I'll be here for you. Don't worry, as long as we're friends, I won't let you down. I promise." Erik looked astonished. He stared, shocked and relieved. He was taken aback a little, and took a step forward.

"A. Friend? A friend.." Erik let the flavor of the word soak in. He looked down for a minute, and looked to Erika. "That's the nicest, _the nicest_ thing anyone has ever done for my. Anywhere. Ever.." Erika turned, staring, unaware of what he was saying. True or False? Erika couldn't tell, she stood, with the oar in hand, Erik the same. Neither of them noticed they had already reached the shore. Erik stepped off, and offered his hand, Erika took it and stepped on shore. Erik looked to the corridor and walked ahead, Erika dashed after him. Erika and the Angel walked side-by-side up the corridors through the cellars, almost like a never ending tunnel, running on as far as the eyes could see. Erik looked a bit depressed as the two made their way into the third cellar. Erika looked around noticing familiar figures, a dent in the wall, a small scratch in the floorboards. Erika turned to face Erik, noticing his pace had quickened.

"Is it true... what you said back there? I mean, about me saving you?" Erik almost stopped, but continued on, he nodded, leaving Erika speechless, which seemed best considering they had reached the mirror in her dressing room, Erik slip the mirror open, most everything looked as they had left it. Mass chaos rumbled through the halls, people still shouted her name, calling her. Erik turned to her, almost smiling, but frowning as well.

"The Masquerade alright? Don't forget. I'll be there inside of box five." Erika was shocked. Box five. She wasn't meant to go there. But what did it matter? No one was actually going to stop her. Erika nodded and stepped outside of the mirror, only to see a small music box sitting on her bureau, a small figure of a monkey in Persian robes sat on it. She walked over and wound it. A small tune played, sounding ever so familiar, but also distant. Erika turned to see Erik staring at the music box. She opened her mouth to speak, but the door to the dressing room began to turn, Erik closed the mirror, and turned, fading into the darkness, Raoul entered the room, red rims around his eyes. He had been crying.

"Erika! I've found her!" Raoul ran to her and held her in his arms, sobbing on to her shoulder, but when he pulled away, dozens of people were standing in the hall, every last one staring at the music box.

Chapter six

"Oh Erika.." Raoul's voice trailed off as he walked to the music box, staring at it. Raoul lifted it from the desk and wound it, the melody repeated, once, twice, a third time. Soon everyone's eyes went from the music box, to the mirror, to Erika. Not long after Madam Giry and Morgan burst into the room. Morgan seemed like a miniature clone of her mother Meg.

"No..The angel?" Madam Giry turned to Raoul, he frowned and nodded miserably. "No..It can't be!" The dance director turned to face the crowd of people outside the dressing room door. "The..Opera Ghost has..returned." murmurs and shocked whispers passed through the crowd. Madam Giry banged her staff on the ground. "Erika," Madam Giry turned to Erika. "Sing for us will you? Perhaps a bar from 'Hannibal'?" Erika had never been able to sing it before, but nodded and inhaled. Erika began to sing, her voice lifting the spirits of the crowd, crashing the sprits of her father's and Madam Giry.

"_Think of me,_

_Think of me fondly when we've said good-bye,_

_Remember me,_

_Once in a while, please promise me you'll try…"_

Erika's voice hadn't changed, and yet to everyone else it must have somehow seemed different. Everyone around her stood, shocked, knowing that she had indeed been visited by the Angel. Madam Giry didn't seem surprised. Morgan approached Erika, causing murmurs and groans through the crowd. And Morgan whispered, only loud enough for Erika to hear.

"What is it? Why does everyone look so pale?" Erika took Morgan by the arm and ran out of the dressing room, running down the hall, until they reached the second corridor dressing room, Erika shoved Morgan in, then turned to lock the door behind them.

"Look, this may seem hard to understand, and even harder to believe. Well remember when we were young your mom used to tell us the story of the Angel of Music? Remember how my dad would never mention them? But the Angel is real! And he's nothing like your mother said, Erik is a kind caring soul, and he said he knew my mother. But I just don't know who to believe anymore, father says Erik is a monster, and your mother calls him a genius and a madman. Oh Morgan you have to believe me! He's not at all like your mother says, he seems like a perfect person. He..I don't know. He's like a person who sees the world at a whole new angle. I just don't know how to say it. I mean, a madman, a monster, a dead man, an angel, or a friend? He said I would see him again at the up coming masked ball, and I need a place to stay for a little while, can I stay with you for maybe a few weeks, at least until the masked ball?" Erika's head had been in her hands; she sank to the floor, but looked up, seeing Morgan beside her on the floor. Morgan was smiling like a saint. Erika tried to smile. It had been like this when they met; they sat on the floor for what seemed like forever, just staring each other in the eyes. "Will you help an old friend out?" Morgan's smile never faded, she rose to her feet and extended her hand

"What? Did you think I was going to leave my best friend out in the cold? I think not! This is your finest hour. I can tell, you'll be a star! I can see it now: Erika de Changy: The Prima Donna!" Morgan and Erika laughed. But suddenly Erika stiffened. "But there's one thing you have to promise me." Morgan's voice became stern. She was serious. "I want you to take me to the labyrinth. And in return, you can stay, I promise. I just want to see it for myself." Erika took a moment to think it over, but nodded in agreement. Morgan pulled Erika to her feet, they smiled, but Erika broke the silence.

"I have to go back to the dressing room. I left a few things there that I won't leave without." Erika ran out of the dressing room, and fetched the music box and the half mask. Erika dashed to the entry with Morgan at her side. As they exited people tried to stop Erika to talk to her, but the girls pressed on. The two ran to the streets and found Morgan's old Cadillac. Erika instantly opened the door and hoped into the car, Erika turned on the radio, finding a segment of Carmen and sat back on the seat. Morgan stepped in and turned the car on and began to drive, after a few minutes Erika noticed people were staring at her from outside the car, at a red light Morgan tried to start conversation. A glow had formed around Erika, ever since she had stepped into the car Morgan had been worried.

"Uh..Erika are you okay because-" Erika sighed angrily and interrupted.

"No I'm not okay. I fell like I'm going to die. And I really don't feel in the mood to have you try to prep talk me like a therapist." Morgan scorned Erika. She felt like there was more that Morgan was hiding, the two girls drove through intersections, people staring as they drove past. "See Morgan? Even passers-by think this car is hideous."

Not long after the two girls reached the apartment, Erik didn't hesitate, and grabbed the music box off the seat and dashed inside, avoiding the eyes of those around her. Erika ran up steps and continued until she reached the seventh floor, Morgan's room. Erika ran in and didn't stop until she ran in front of the mirror. Erika stopped to look at her reflection, but the teen she saw wasn't her, the hair was shorter, and a darker shade of brown, the tank-top was black, and the mini skirt had changed to a red and yellow plaid color, Erika looked harder into the mirror, and saw wings, angelic blue wings, the black mask covering the half of her face, she lifted her hand and traced the reflection. It was her. Erika de Changy. She looked. An Angel of Music, wings and all. Erika turned away and ran into Morgan's welcoming arms, Erika cried into her shoulder, only a few words heard between sobs.

"Angels..The angels of music...never die.." Everything else seemed to drown away with her tears. Moran let Erika cry, Morgan embraced Erika, but slightly nudged her away a few minutes later, Morgan held Erika's head in her hands, and Morgan looked past her though, in the mirror, she saw the Angel. She cursed him under her breath, but turned back to Erika.

"Erika calm down, please. It hurts to see you so miserable. Please, stop crying, what would your mother say if she saw you like this?" Erika looked up.

"She would tell me..This was meant to be..that it happened for a reason..that I was an angel." Erika turned to the mirror, noticing Erik. He smiled, and noted.

"I couldn't have said it better myself.

Chapter seven

This time Erika couldn't bare to lift her gaze, she paced herself over to the mirror, only lifting her gaze to see eye-to-eye with the angel.

"You beast..you monster..you demon..you..you" Erika pointed her finger at Erik. Her fury building up. She thought of how she had once trusted this beast, called him a friend. She turned and fell onto Morgan's bed. She sat with her back to the pair. "This disaster..it's your fault..I know it.." Erik was fuming from behind the mirror, almost bursting out of it.

"DISASTER? You call this a disaster? Why this is not mishap young Changy! This was destiny, why even Morgan knew this was going to happen!" Erika froze. She turned to Morgan to be reassured, noticing her facing her feet, she had know. This had Erik's name all over it. She turned away once more, she lifted her gaze to the ceiling. She started to speak to her mother, who she knew wouldn't hear her.

"So. This is it. My friends who I once trusted are both liars. I don't even know who I am anymore. And I don't believe in angels. But I think I know who I am. But I don't believe it. I am the Angel in Hell, aren't I mother? See mom? Do you see your Angel now? Do you see-" Erika looked to her hands. "-this _beast_.." Erika held her head in her hands and sobbed softly. She heard foot-steps begin to pace across the room, assuming it was Morgan she ignored it, a scream was heard above her sobs, Erika turned Abruptly, seeing no one in the room. The mirror drew her attention, which held Morgan's reflection. Erika ignored it and turned away, but heard a soft whisper from behind.

"You know Erika, I like you, even as an angel. But be careful what you say, you might not be the monster in this room. This monster could be someone you once held close and dear." Erika slowly lifted her hand and turned to see Erik sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her. Erika turned to him.

"I tired of lies Erik. I want to see life as it should be seen. I don't want to see people as they want to be seen, I want people to be seen for who they are. I want to see..reality. I want to see it all Erik. I want to see the world the way it was made." Erika sighed. Erik turned and stared in astonishment, shocked. Erik whispered, load enough so that Erika could hear.

"You really do have to be careful about what you say Erika. Sometimes thing weren't meant to be seen by human eyes." Erika sat in silence for a moment, and noticed Erika and her were the only people in the room, Morgan was nowhere to be seen. Erika looked to the mirror, seeing an irritated Morgan standing inside. Erika gasped and ran to the mirror.

"About time!" Morgan mumbled. "It took you a while to realize I was over here." Morgan leaned in and Whispered to Erika. "If you want to see the world the way it really is, why not start with Erik. He wears that mask, he hides for a reason, find out first, the move to the world's view. Don't' worry about me, you kept your half of the deal, so I guess I guess you get to stay here, I meet up with you at the masked ball." Erika nodded and Morgan's figure faded into the mirror. Erika saw Erik on the bed behind her. He sat there, as though waiting for something, but a knock came at the door.

"Erika? Morgan? Are you guys' home? I saw you two run out of the opera like it was on fire! Girls? Girls?" Erika turned quickly to Erik, he nodded and walked to the mirror, but whispered before he left;

"The masked ball, don't forget." Erika nodded and watched as the door opened, and a familiar figure walked in. Erika ran and embraced the figure.

"Alan!" Erika embraced him, but he pushed her away playfully.

"Didn't we have the personally space talk last time I was here? What's new-" Alan cut himself off, and walked and examined Erika's wings, and the mask as well, he ran his hand down her wing, and pulled a feather.

"Ow! Alan watch it." Alan was shocked. He ran his hand over the mask, but Erika pushed his hand away. She opened her mouth, she knew he was going to ask.

"I'll tell you everything, take a seat. I'll explain but don't interrupt." Erika began the story, starting where she always did. She told Alan the old English legend, since Alan was from America, he didn't know the stories. Erika told him every detail until she stopped at the point where he walked into the room. She rose from the floor and lifted the music box, bringing in to the bed and sat down beside Alan, she wound the music box. "See?" Alan nodded and took the music box from her hand and sang to the tune.

"Masquerade, every face a different shade,

Masquerade, hide your face so the world with never find you.." Erika sat in shock.

"You know the song!" Alan nodded.

"Why don't we order a pizza, or I'll go get us some dinner, when I get back I'll explain everything. You don't look like you want to go to a restraint. Erika looked to her wings and Blushed.

"Guess not. While your out get the _Nightmare before Christmas_ and _Dracula._ We'll watch the movies just like old times Alan!" Alan smiled and walked to the door, but repeated her words as he left.

"Just like old times..."

Chapter eight

Raoul dashed through the opera house, yelling Erika's name as loud as he dare. Raoul had searched the stage, the dressing rooms, the offices, and the attic, but Erika was nowhere to be found.. It had taken quite a while, but Mme. Giry had alas caught up, pulling Raoul's arm causing him to stop.

"Monsieur! Erika has vanished, as well as Morgan! A few people said that they saw the two run out of the opera a few minutes ago. And I hate to be a burden Raoul, but we have to find them!" Mme. Giry began to cry, not much, but just enough to show Raoul her intentions. Raoul turned away, shocked and both filled with dread thinking only of his daughter's safety, but a thought struck Raoul, there was one place they hadn't looked;

Box Five.

"Meg, listen, I know a way to find them, but it's a risk, and well...I fear that both our daughters may be in danger..." Meg stopped, Morgan was defiantly in danger. Mme. Giry now realized that the car had been missing from outside, and nor Morgan or Erika around, wherever they had gone, they weren't very far, even at this rate. Raoul sighed, but continued. "There is one place we haven't checked Meg, Box Five, but I doubt they're there. But I think there is a reason they would be there, don't you? And You used to play there when you young...and you said you had heard voices there.." Meg fell silent. But nodded for a response. Raoul paled a bit, this is what he feared, when Meg and Christine were younger and would play with the other dancers, they would dare one another to go into Box Five, to see who would last the longest, of course, Meg always succeeded. Christine had always been second place, coming out singing a small humble tune, and everyone asking them what happened. Raoul thought for a moment.

_What if this isn't a trick? _His mind was utterly boggled. _What if this isn't a ploy of Erik's revenge?...what if it is?_

Mme. Giry was silent for quite sometime now, worrying about what it was that Monsieur Changy had in mind.

"Monsieur, I believe I know where the two are going to show up, we'll have to wait a while though. You've searched the entire opera house, all but Box Five, perhaps there is something we're not seeing. Why, let me ask you Monsieur, what was the reason that Erik released you from that torture chamber all those years ago?" Raoul fell silent, even his breathing softened. His voice was low and distempered, but Meg heard him just the same.

"She promised him her hand in marriage…she promised to stay by his side through life..and death. She promised him, but she lied and we fled. Why we returned, I'm still unsure. I presume it's the memory of her father that lead her back here, but then again, who knows? All I know right now is that I need to find my daughter, and standing in this hallway talking about it isn't going to help." Raoul turned away and continued down the hallways. Meg followed in a fast pursuit, trying to keep herself from falling behind, but not getting very far without having to stop to catch her breath. No less then a moment later, Monsieur Mann came dashing through the halls, waving an envelope in his hand, a broken seal on the back of the envelope.

"Monsieur De Changy! Please Monsieur hesitate!" Raoul stopped, as well did Meg and a few people in the hallway. "Sir, it is a message...a note from the Opera Ghost sir." A silence fell through the entire hallway. Raoul slowly turned to face Mann, his hand quivering as he reached out to take the note. The note was written in the dsame red ink which had haunted many of the opera house guest and workers from within many years before.

Monsieur Changy and Mme. Giry,

Believing I had left so soon? Why, these past seventeen years seem like only days before. Thinking I had left you for good already? Believing I was dead did you? Well, perhaps young Changy and Giry can change your views. It does seem that Morgan is having quite the time exploring the labyrinth, and I believe Erika is quite happy at Morgan's apartment. But of course, she feels better with Alan...but she'll soon change her mind. Just reminding you that my salary is once more due, and that I will once more be looking forward to your productions of _Il Muto _and _Hannibal_.

Your obedient servant,

O.G

Raoul's eyes began to flood. Once more the hauntings of the Opera Ghost was upon the Opera Populare. But this time, Erik had more in store for the young maidens. The note fell from Raoul's grasp to the floor. The seal on the back was indeed the of the Opera Ghost, a red skull. Mme. Giry looked to Raoul then to the note, already knowing it was sent by none other then Erik himself, but still lifted the note to read this peril for herself, bursting the solitude while reading the note.

"He has Morgan! He's got her Monsieur! Now I understand why you didn't like me telling them those stories...I fell so empty...my dearest Morgan...trapped within that labyrinth...Monsieur we must do something! We have to!" Mme. Giry was shaking Raoul by the shoulders, but was pulled back Mann. Raoul was in shock and stepped back half a step at Meg's fury.

"Calm down Meg, we'll find them, I promise. He may currently hold the ace, but we'll find a way, I know we will, and nothing, not a single thing, will stand in our way. Right?" Meg was barely holding back tears but nodded. This was only the beginning of Erik's master plan.

Chapter nine

Erika sat alone on the bed, humming merely to herself. She stood and walked around, tracing her mask softly with her fingers. Nothing in the room seemed of interest, or at least nothing other then the musical box. Erika lifted the box and examined it; the barrel organ, the monkey in robes, and the gold plated cymbals, she spoke half to herself, and half to the box.

"...quite a piece of work aren't you? I wonder how Alan, of all people, knew your song. Then that only makes it more confusing, why are you so important to Father and Meg? You're more of a puzzle then a music box if you ask me..." Erika ran her hand over the inscriptions, gold plated letters, and a smooth, cold feeling of the phrase grabbed her attention. The letters read a Latin statement; Lorem Ipsum Dolor Sit. A phrase which Erika had never heard before.

"' You never cease to surprise do you? 'Lorem..Ipsum.. Dolor sit'?" And abruptly, as though by magic, the music box began to play it's hypnotic melody once more. "Masquerade, the masked ball of course! On the organ in the ballroom? But I'm pretty sure that the old thing doesn't work anymore...but. maybe...there is definitely more to you then it seems. You really are a puzzle!" Erika smiled and put the box down on the dresser, and paced over to the mirror, running her fingers through her burnt sienna hair. Her eyes weren't the same earthly tones, but now had reflected into a passionate violet glow. Her skin had paled, but her wings were still in place, feather and all, minus the halo. The mini skirt had now faded back to the temperate sky blue, and her shirt white once again. Erika smiled and watched her reflection, not seeing it smile back, to see it simply stay the same. Erika leaned forward, only to have her reflection surge toward her and knock her back. Erika glared, but her reflection smiled mockingly. Erika stood, staring at the reflection, perplexed, her reflection yawned and sat on the chair's reflection. The image laughed and a cup of tea appeared in her hands and she gently sipped it.

"You're in quite a mess Erika." her reflection remarked, Erika sat down on the chair opposite of her reflection's.

"So you can talk." Erika grumbled.

"Likewise? On this side of life you're the e reflection, not me." Her reflection smiled. "I presume it's the same over there?"

In the past few hours Erika's life had taken an unexpected twist, and this was no exception, her reflection staring her as she sat on the chair looking her in the eyes. This was one of the most bazaar things that had happened so far. She sat there, her back straight, perfect etiquette, but what of her reflection? She saw her counterpart's ears were pierced a few times, and that her face seemed to sag when she frowned. She sat with the same structure as Erika.

"So, if you're my reflection would your name be mine backwards?" Erika rubbed her neck as her reflection fell out of the chair guffawing.

"How stupid are you? I don't have the same names as yours...it's different. Okay? Did you get that or do I have to take notes for you?" Erika growled, this wasn't helping her get her head on straight. Or solve the riddle of the music box.

" I see that our courtesy levels are different, and I don't have time for this! I've got to get ready, the ball is only a few days away and I need to get a costume!" Erika shouted and rose from her seat stomping to Morgan's closet to search for a costume.

"Why bother looking for a costume? You're already wearing one. And by the way, you seem a little on edge. Why don't you sit down and have some tea? We can talk this out. I know all about Erik and about Alan. Why don't you relax?" Erika stopped and turned around, appalled by this charade.

"Who are you?"

"Why, none other then Erik's first student, but I insist you call me Lotte"

Chapter ten

Alan continued down the apartment corridor stopping every now and again to look to a painting or gaze at a statue. Alan walked down the spiral staircase and out into the parking lot, not far off was his black Ford F150. He opened the door and sat in the driver's position. He shoved the key into the ignition and listened as a song played over the radio. Alan sat and staring out into the streets of Paris watching as children rode by on bicycles.

"Way to go Alan, you come back to see the girl of your dreams and looks what happens. And look now: John told you straight out 'It's a bad idea man'. You should have listened, you should have just stayed at the university. And did you listen to him? No!" Alan sat and turned so his feet were resting on the passenger side. He looked at the radio and tuned it, nothing was on anyway so he searched for a decent song, stopping after a few minutes on a song that made him feel even worse.

_Learn to be lonely,_

_learn to be your one companion,_

_Never dreamed out in the world,_

_there are arms to hold you._

_You've always know,_

_Your heart was on it's own!_

_So laugh in your loneliness..._

Alan turned off the radio, and moved his feet under the wheel, placing them on the pedals and finally turning the key in the ignition, then placing his hand on the stick shift.

"It just isn't our day." Alan sighed to himself, he search town for the old pizza parlor, and found it reconstructed and now covered in a layer of glossy gold paint. Alan entered and place his order, only having to pay a few pounds for the pizza finding it quite a deal. Alan continued glumly to 'Angie's Movie Rentals' an purchased _The Nightmare before Christmas _and _Bram stoker's Dracula._ Alan returned to the Ford F150 and sat down for a minute. He inhaled, unsure of what he was about to do. Alan started the car and drove a few blocks to the jewelers and slowly entered where the clerk greeted him with enthusiasm.

"Bonjour Monsieur, how may I help you?" asked the clerk gleefully.

"I need a ring..." responded Alan in a low whisper. "A _wedding ring." _

Chapter eleven

Raoul and Meg hurried outside and began their wait for a trolley, Raoul sat first, whereas Meg remained standing.

"Mr.Changy-" Meg began through sobs, but was interrupted by Raoul.

"Meg, we've know each other for years, if you want, please, call me by my first name, I won't feel insulted." Raoul looked to her and embraced her hand. "Don't worry, this plan is fool proof, and I promise we'll get our girls back, I promise." The duo waited for the trolley in silence, Raoul thinking about how he could have raised his daughter, how he longed to see her again, even though only a few days had passed. The sleep he had had the night before had been one of his most dreadful, his mind twisting and turning with the horrors and worries of how his dearest Erika would be, The past few days dragged on like an eternity. The trolley came a few minutes after the two had their conversation, the two boarded the trolley and sat in the very back. Meg sat first and began to hum an oddly familiar tune, leaving the sound to linger in the air. Meg hummed and smiled, her daughter may have _seemed _in danger, but Meg knew the act. She held a frown firmly on her face, but hummed nonetheless. Raoul turned his head, Meg caught his gaze, and ceased her humming.

"Never mind Meg. Go ahead and hum, the tune just seemed familiar that's all."

"How did you-" Meg began

"-know? I'm not sure, but all I know is that I want to find my daughter and then forget this dreadful nightmare/" Raoul leaned back and glared at Raoul. "I just hope it isn't to late."

"To late? TO LATE? Raoul, we are not giving up. Did you give up when Erik had you trapped in that torture chamber?" Raoul fell silent, even his breath softened. "I certainly say not! You promised we'd fined them, and find them we will! I even promise that Raoul..I promise." Meg held Raoul's hand for reassurance. He smiled and turned away to look out the window. Outside there was a jewelry store where he saw a young man walking out with a small black box in his hands. And for some reason, Raoul had an idea, and although it was risking everything, even a chance of seeing Erika again, it was a plan just the same.

"I've got it." Raoul almost whispered, Meg turned in fascination. Raoul's eyes seemed to glow, .leaving Meg baffled. "The upcoming masked ball, for our New Years celebration. Erika planed to go, and even in costume I know my daughter, I'll be able to tell if it's her or not, and I'd bet it's the same for you and Morgan, and now that I think of it, I know exactly how to get to Erika and Morgan."

Chapter Eleven

Morgan walked through the dimly lit hallways looking for nothing in particular, just gazing upon the gravel walls, listening to the soft echo of her footsteps. Looking around Morgan soon saw a shape silhouetted in the distance against a glowing light, not far from her current position, she heard music as well coming from the same direction. The music seemed to be an organ, and whomever was playing it played with skill. Morgan listened, the music seemed familiar to her, she paced forward to the shape, and Morgan stopped and saw the figure- now only a few yards away from her- was a boat. Morgan ran to the boat, finding the reason it was there, for before her was a glossy shimmering lake. Morgan took the boat in her arms as best she could and placed it in the water. She grabbed an oar and shoved off into the lake, the paddle's laps seemed to be getting farther and farther away. Morgan stopped, she was in the middle of the lake, hearing splashing coming from behind her, paddling faster trying to escape whatever horrors were following her. Morgan's boat crashed on the shore and she stumbled out, seeing a hole in the stern of the ship. Morgan rose and swept her pants off.

"Erik is so going to owe me after this." Morgan lifted her eyes to the boat to see the stern repaired. "Thanks Angie." She mumbled as she turned and saw the angel behind her.

"Good day Morgan." sighed Erik

"And likewise Monsieur Erik." Morgan replied as she bowed. :I complement you agriculture of the labyrinth and of your siren's courtesy. This opera house is beautiful it seems to become more beautiful with each passing visit." Morgan grinned

"Thank you. I'm surprised you showed/ But what are we to do about Erika? The masked ball is tomorrow, and although everything is prepared, is the staircase ready? And have you noticed, although I adore Erika as much as I had Christine that every time, Raoul remains a consistent problem? I can feel that Erika truly has a passion for singing, and if this plan works, then once more the Opera Populaire will be revived with the hauntings of the Phantom of the Opera." Morgan nodded in agreement.

"Everything is perfectly set Monsieur, the staircase is in place, and no one suspects a thing. And tomorrow, we will see Red Death once again.."

Chapter twelve

The masked ball begins...

Erika stood outside the ballroom entrance, she fiddled with her costume, and made sure her mask was in place. Lotte stood next to her beaming, the two girls were wearing golden gowns, Lotte wearing a basic white mask, Erika wearing the half mask Erik gave her and a pair of wings on their backs, real ones on Erika's backs.

"And you thought it was a bad idea." Laughed Lotte. "Do you remember our plan?"

"Yes," sighed Erika. "If anyone asks who we are, our names are Bolivia and Emily, we're from southern Paris and we're 'dressed' as angels of music." Lotte smiled and patted Erika on the shoulder.

"And don't forget it."



Raoul and Meg stood side-by-side, Raoul raised his mask, Meg then following suit. Raoul was dressed as a skeleton, as to draw Erik's attention if at all possible, and Meg dressed as a diva, her smile blinding.

"This is it..." Raoul sighed.



Alan stepped in front of the ballroom door and placed his hand on the golden door handle and pulled out the wedding ring in the black velvet box, Alan held the box and looked to the heavens,

"Ring of gold, don't let me down!"



Lady Death stepped out of the mirror, Erik following behind as Red Death, but rather then wearing the ever familiar 'mask of death' he wore the same mask he had promised Erika. The lady's outfit matched Erik's, a red flowing gown, the soft silky fabric tracing over the ground, her mask a black strip across her face. Erik grabbed her arm as she walked to the door.

"Remember Lady Death, we can't let Erika get near the organ, or else everything we've worked toward will be destroyed."

She smiled and embraced Erik; she pulled away and stepped to the door, looking over her shoulder.

"Have fun Phantom."



Everyone entered the ballroom.

Lady Death stood at the top of the staircase and shout to those below

"Party goers, and staff alike!" she began. "Tonight, at this very gala… there is a very special visitor. One of whom many of you should remember vaguely, please, everyone give an 'Opera Populare welcome' to..." The small orchestra stopped playing and the percussionist began a drum roll and everyone at the New Year's celebration feel silent.

"...an old friend of many, and upon a faces, I see shock..." she faced Erika and Lotte, then to Raoul and her mother. "Why so silent? Come now, welcome the architect who built this very opera house you stand on: Red Death! Come on clap you little demons!"

A series of gasps passed through the crowds, as Erik stepped onto the staircase overlooking the face of every person in the very room.

Erika's eyes were wide in horror, she desperately scanned the room, finding the organ and beginning to turn to run to it, but Erik's voice rang out.

"Ah, Mrs. Lotte. We meet again after all these years." Erik took a step forward. "So many years ago, I believed you dead." Another step, Erika stopped and looked over her shoulder, and saw that people had made a clear path for Erik to walk to Lotte, and behind Lotte, the organ.

"Likewise Red Death. I didn't think you were still alive either." Lotte took a few steps back. "I had believed you died seventeen years ago." Erik's smile slowly grew with every step he took, and when took a step forward, Lotte took one back toward the organ.

"Surely Lotte, don't tell me you believe those stories? But I believed you dead decades ago!" Erik was now at the bottom of the staircase, and Lotte right in front of the organ, everyone watched as a young man broke out of the crowd.

"So, Erik. We meet at last." Alan stood in between Erik and Lotte, Alan bowed. "A pleasure Monsieur to meet you face-to-face, or at least close to it." Alan stepped forward and Erik laughed at his remark. "I hadn't expected to find you here. I'm quite surprised at who you really are though..." Alan now stood at arm length from Erik.

"You must be Alan, I've heard a lot about you." Alan went pale behind his mask, and every around them remained silent through the conversation. Even Raoul, who had his arms across his chest, stunned that Alan had returned from America.

_Obliviously he came back to visit Erika, but there's something more to his visit..._

And stunned even more that he was going face-to-face with The Angel in Hell.

"Don't be shocked Alan. I know much about you. You live in New York City, in America, you own a black Ford F150 you're seventeen and a half, and your birthday is July twenty-third. Your favorite color is orange, and in your spare time you enjoy writing poetry about despair and desire. So what else is there to know?" Alan stood in shock, and a few crowd members did two, Erika now made her way to Lotte.

"What's happening?" Erika gasped for breath.

"The first encounter. This is when it all happened years ago with your mother, I mean when she confessed her love to your father." Lotte faced her feet.

"...I hope it doesn't end like that now." Erika sighed.

Chapter thirteen

Erika's Grand Flight

"Lotte, I mean Emily, we've got to do something! Alan's in danger, and Erik might be as well!" Lady Death still stood at the top of the staircase, staring at the crowd below. But the lady caught Erika's eye and shouted into the crowd.

"Look Erik!" she raised her had to point at the two girls. "We've got a few angels in our presence!" Every head in the ballroom turned to the girls and a few people even gasped. Erika looked, and saw she was hovering over the organ, Lotte pulled Erika's arm, bring her back onto the ground.

"Aren't special effects a kick?" Lotte snickered and rubbed the back of her head. Erik stood eyes wide, his attention drawn away from Alan and began walking slowly to the organ. Erika noticed and leaned toward Lotte's ear.

"Let go of my arm, I've got a plan." Lotte nodded and released Erik's arm. Erika walked forward and stood in front of Erik.

"Bonjour Monsieur," said Erika, throwing off her voice. "I don't believe we've meet. So you are the grand architect who built the Opera Populare? A please indeed Monsieur." And Erika bowed obediently. Erik stopped and lifted Erika's head lightly with his hand, Erika's smile stayed, and she straightened her back and stood still at eye level. Erik looked her in the eyes.

"You seem familiar, what is your name?" Erik asked casually, scanning the half mask.

"Bolivia." Erik stare perplexed, his eyes drew away and scanned the rest of the ballroom.

"So, you came with Lotte? Let's see who else decided to show up tonight..." Erik pointed to Raoul and Meg. "The owner and the dancer." Erik turned to Alan and the lady. "My assistant," Lady Death curtsied. "...and a lover searching for his beloved." Erik then turned to Erika.

"And you? What lies behind your mask 'Ms. Bolivia'?" Erik grinned, but Erika paled.

What is Erik planning?

Erika fell silent and turned her face to the floor. This was it. Erik knew, Erika raised her head, then her hand, and she removed her mask.

"An Angel of Music Monsieur that is what is behind this mask. Now Monsieur, we know a few people at this masked ball. But what of you? Do you wish to show us the genius who designed the Opera we stand upon?" Every pair of prying eyes were on Red Death and the Angel. Erika stepped forward, and Erik stepped back. Continuously this happened until Erik had reached the staircase.

"Well? This is your chance Erik." Erik groaned softly, but lifted his head grinning wildly, he raised his hand to eye level, and his voice echoed through the entire Opera.

"...Hand at the level of your eyes." And abruptly every light faded for a moment, when the lights returned, only five people remained in the entire ballroom; Lady Death, Alan, Raoul, Lotte, and Erika. Erika and Alan at the foot of the staircase. Lady Death held her position at the top. Raoul by the door, and Lotte by the organ. Everyone moved to the center of the room except the mystery of Lady Death, who stood at the top of the staircase, her back to the quartet. Erika was attempting to land, but then Alan looked up at her, she was hovering right next to the theater's golden angel. Alan lowered his head, and began running up the stairs.

"Alan!" Erika cried, and she flew off to catch up to him.

Chapter fourteen

Alan's proposal

Erika followed Alan through corridors and hallways, twisting and turned, making it seem as though he was trying to through her off.

"Alan please wait!" Erika shouted. Alan didn't turn to look, but bumped into a small statue; Erika stopped, and caught it just in time. Alan continued, not even looking back to make sure of Erika's safety, he just kept running. Alan soon reached Box Five, running in, followed by a fuming Erika.

"Alan! What is wrong with you?" Erika landed on the ground with a soft thud. Alan stood still, grasping the velvet box, Erika marched up to Alan. "You've got some nerve-"

But Erika froze, held out in Alan's hand was a single golden ring, engraved in it was the phrase _Mon plus Cher ange_... This translated into 'My dearest Angel'. Erika stood with her eyes wide. "...Alan. What is this?" Alan smiled and got down on one knee, still holding out the ring; Erika's eyes began to water.

"Erika, for fourteen years we've known each other, and personally, I've always had something for you, but until I returned a few days ago, you've left a new impression on my. And each time I see you, I fall in love all over again..." Alan rose, the ring still extended, and removed his mask, and even his eyes were watering. "Erika, will you marry me, I know we're about a year to young, and I know-"but Erika intruded.

"Alan, I wouldn't want it an other way."



Erik sat below the floor boards in the cellar, he softly cried to himself, but heard more conversation from above and wiped his eyes.

"I'm glad Erika; shall we go tell the others the good news?"

"Yes, lets..." Erik heard footsteps.

"Erika, what is this ring on your finger?" Alan's voice seemed a little upset. Erik knew, and Erika knew as well, but her voice was dulled and she seemed to sulk as she said it.

"Remember yesterday when I told you that story?" Erika sighed, but Alan...laughed.

"You mean your whole Angel story with that Erik fellow?" Erika laughed jokingly, but then her tone stricken.

"Yes that story. This ring..." Erika trailed off.

"...is Erik's?" Alan guessed.

"Yes, but we'll do as my father and mother had all those years ago!"

"And that is?"

"We'll have a _secret engagement!_" Alan sounded a little unsure. Erik sat below them, head hung low, and he talked softly to himself.

"Why didn't you know? You should have known that she was too perfect to be true... you ask God for a second chance, and all you get is a second broken heart of stone. Look at what you've gotten yourself into." Erik sat alone, and beside him he noticed a small shard of what seemed to be a mirror, Erik raised his hand and lifted the shard and looked into the mirror, the white mask seemed to be an eternal curse, a curse of his life. Why must such a man be cursed so? Erik looked into the mirror; staring back at him seemed to be a figure of perfection, or an angel, but the true man hidden behind a mask. Erik removed his mask and looked into the mirror, no longer and Angel, but now a gargoyle, or one of Hell's demons.

"Now I know, after all these years, that no matter how hard I try...I'm always like this behind the mask, and that I've always been alone, and I probably always will be." Erik sighed and threw the shard aside, but heard a voice behind him.

"But Erik...you're not alone..." Erik turned in shock to see Erika hovering off to the side of the cellar. Erik smiled but turned away.

"You shouldn't see me like this Erika." Erik groaned and rode his mask then turned to Erika, but she stepped forward and looked at his face.

"With the mask, I see you as Erik." She paused and lowered the mask. "Without it, I see a handsome Angel of Music. And I love the angel even more without the mask." Erik stood astonished, and tried to turn away, but Erika, touched the side of his cheek, leaned in and kissed him, but before she did whispered in his ear.

"_Je t'aime Erik, et moi toujours volonté_" She repeated herself as she pulled away. "I love you Erik, and I always will." Erik stopped, and simply smile and said gently to Erika.

"_Et je t'aime mon ange." _

Chapter Fifteen

The charade concludes

Erika reentered the ballroom to have Lotte to be the first to greet her.

"Erika!" Lotte ran at Erik and embraced her, but whispered softly in her ear. "Everything go alright?" Erika nodded and playfully shoved Lotte off her. Erika inhaled deeply, still a bit love-struck. She listened and heard the organ; she looked, and saw Meg and her Father.

"Mme. Giry!" Erika ran and stood next to the organ, full of joy. "It's so good to see you again! I wondered where you had disappeared to! I'm very happy to see you again madam." Erika smiled, and Meg faced her, her fingers still running across the pearly white keys, her eyes flooded tears, Meg's fingers slammed on the keys abruptly. And she spoke to Erika softly.

"Miss Erika, do you know what has become of my daughter? I could have sworn that Lady Red Death seemed familiar. But I haven't seen my daughter since before the party, now most everyone has vanished, I woke upon inside the old dance dormitories, but no one else has been found in the Opera Populare, so I don't know what to say..."

Everyone shook their heads, no one knew who the Lady Red Death was, Erika day dreamed and a soft, mellow content swiped across her face, and fond thoughts of Erik filled her mind as she fiddled with the ring Erik had given her, Alan watched in concern as Erika handled the ring.

"Erika are you alright? You seem a little...well...dazed...I'm just making sure you're okay." Erika snapped out her darling daydream to realize she was still with Alan; she walked over and leaned on his shoulder.

"I'm fine, as a matter of fact; I've never been happier" And Erika looked deeply into Alan's eyes. "What about you Lotte? How do you feel?" Alan and the love-struck Erika turned to Lotte; she kept her face hidden behind her mask.

"I can't really say...I don't really know, I don't know whether to smile, or frown, I'm ecstatic, yet extremely depressed. So, I don't really know. Pretty pathetic." Raoul looked

at his daughter, her gazed was star-struck, and her smile seemed false, he walked to Alan, and took him by the hand, Mme. Giry, unsure of what to do, followed Raoul.

"...Alan," he whispered. "I need to speak to you outside." Alan grimaced, remembering that one evening that when Raoul had thought that Alan was going to kiss Erika when the two were watching movies at twelve years old, he took Alan outside and told him straight out that he couldn't date his daughter.



Raoul and Meg lead Alan outside.

"Alan...I have something to tell you, for your own safety, please, leave Paris, go home to America and forget all you know of the Angel of Music, please Alan. I don't think any of us need a repeat in history." Raoul stared blankly at Alan, Alan stood in shock.

"No, I can't Mr.Changy, I've finally asked your daughter for her hand in marriage, I can't just leave the girl of my dreams behind, please, don't make me do it Sir." Alan stood, his fist shaking in fury. Raoul put his hands on Alan's shoulders.

"My son, please, listen, Erik has returned, and he loves Erika as he loved Christine, listen, you will lose either Erika...or your life." Alan was quiet for a minute and faced his feet, teardrops staining his shoes.

"Then I loose my life."



Erika bounced through the ballroom, fluttering around singing joyful songs to herself, leaving Lotte in utter confusion below her.

"Erika! Will you please tell me what is going on!" Lotte shouted above Erika's singing.

"Oh Lotte! I'm in love, madly in love. If being in love was a crime I'd be on Paris' most wanted list!" She shouted below her in a sing-song voice. "And I've never been happier!" Erika flew higher and higher in the opera house, stopping in front of a golden angel statue on the ceiling. She stopped and looked at it, the glow of the angel's eyes was inhuman, and Erika fluttered away slowly.

"Lotte... why do these Angel's eyes glow? It's really creepy!" Erika stared at the angel, and then looked down at Lotte. "Well?"

Lotte looked around, and saw a spotlight.

"Maybe because there's a spotlight on it?" Erika looked and laughed at her own stupidity. Erika slowly swerved around the room, then landed on the organ's seat, and began to play the rhythm of Masquerade, not even knowing what she was doing. Lotte stood beside her, watching Erika's fingers craw around the organ.

"I didn't know you could play the organ!" said Lotte and Erika held her hands above the organ, her hands still moving in the positions, but silence as she spoke.

"I never knew I could either, but what difference does it make? It sounds beautiful!" Erika laid her hands back on the organ, her hands almost red from pressing the keys so hard, she looked at the glistening keys, her fingers almost invisible in the white glows, Erika continued playing, until Lotte stopped her.

"Erika, why are so into this song? It's destroying you from the inside, I can feel it." Erika shook her head.

"All that wine in the air must have gone to your head Mrs.Lotte!" Erika laughed.

"Excuse me? I believe that _love_ is going to _your _brain!"

Erika stopped, insulted, and stood, pointing her finger in Lotte's face, close enough to her where she could clearly see the whites of her eyes.

"What did you say? Is love a little too much to ask for? Is it! I didn't think so! No compassion is shown for those who truly wish to experience it! You don't know what it feels like, to have your father warning you against someone you love! And look at you! You are no better then my father. That's it, I'm out of here!" Erika threw down her mask, and flew off into the darkened theater.

Chapter sixteen

Lady Death's secret finally revealed, and Erik's heart finally mended

Alan's shoes were now stained by tears, Raoul still stood in front of him.

"Alan, please understand, it's not you, it's Erik, he'll surely be taking-"Raoul stopped himself, he turned and ran into the opera house at full speed. "Erika!" Alan and Meg stood outside in the dark, Meg turned to Alan.

"Don't take anything he says to you personally Alan, he's lost Christine and he might even lose his daughter, just give him time. It was almost twenty years ago today when Christine first vanished, don't worry about it Alan..." Meg placed her hand on Alan's shoulder, and Alan sighed.

"I think that we _are _going to have a repeat in history."



Erika fluttered through the opera house, tears burning her eyes, as she flew, behind her a trail of tears seeping into the carpet. Erika's tears feel to the ground with soft thuds. Her wings somewhat scraped against the walls, making them sore. Erika landed, and ran up to box five.

"Erik?...Erik are you around?" Erika fell to the floor and rested on her knees. Soft sniffles stopped the silence, at least before a voice came from behind her.

"Why Erika, you should know that I'm always here." Erika turned and saw Erik behind her, she ran into Erik's arms, and he welcomed her. Erika cried into his shoulder.

"Erik...why does no one understand? Everyone treats us like... _freaks._ Oh Erik, there has to be a place for just you and me. There has to be..." Erik stopped, and ran his hand softly over Erika's head.

"They just don't understand us Erika. But that's fine, because we know who we are. And as long as we have each other, we'll never be alone." Erika lifted her head and smiled.

"Erik...you're so right. I'll never be alone again, because now I've got you Erik, and I've never truly been happier." Erika backed away from Erik by taking only a few steps, and Erika smiled.

"Erik, it's only been a week, and yet, at first it seemed my life had taken a turn for the worse, but now, I see you were right. It truly is a miracle." Erika smiled and her wings began to flutter.

"Erika...I have something to tell you." Erika looked to Erik, and nodded. "There is a reason you've got angel wings and everything has happened to you...your mother had prayed before you were born, that her child would be gifted from the angel of music, but she had misspoken, she said she had wanted her child to _be _an angel of music, but it was supposed to happen where you were thirteen...but I guess it's best that it happened now, at least you can control it better then others." Erik smiled, but then caught himself. "Don't take that the wrong way though!" Erika smiled, and stepped forward.

"Why, Red Death, would you honor me with a dance?" Erika bowed and rose, waiting Erik's answer.

"It would be my honor."



Below everyone, a soft scuttling could be heard in Erik's liar. A small kitten jumped onto the old sofa. The kitten meowed into the silence, hoping to hear a returning call, the kitten itself had soft velvet fur, short and grey striped, around her neck was a small collar, and it read on the front the name Ayeshea and on the back was an inscription.

Il fit son royaume des ténèbres,

fuyant son image des miroirs,

Demeurant sous terre, ignoré de tous.

Pourtant, son âme brille comme un diamant,

et son coeur contient tout l'empire du monde...

The kitten meowed again, her distressed cries echoing in the darkness, each echo seeming to replay a message, each one sounding the same:

"It made its kingdom of darkness, fleeing its image of the mirrors,

Remaining under ground, ignored of all. However, its heart shines like

a diamond and its heart contain all the empire of the world..."



Alan reentered the opera house, everyone had scattered, and Lotte sat on the side of the staircase, and he saw a glimpse of Lady Death at the top of the staircase, and pointed out.

"Look! It's-"Lotte cut him off.

"-I know. Lady Death. She's been running around the second floor for quite some time. You'd be surprised as to who she really is." Alan's eyes widened.

"You know who she is?" Lotte laughed. But nodded her head solemnly and rose to her feet.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. She's lived here for a while, and has befriended Erik as her mother did."

"Her mother?" Alan was becoming more and more interested in who was behind the mask of Lady Death.

"Yes her mother. Do you always ask such oblivious questions? Of course her mother knew Erik, her grandmother as well. Her grandmother died quite sometime ago...poor dear. But never mind, if you'll excuse me-"Lotte turned and began to make her way up the staircase. "I need to have a talk with a certain someone."



Erik's hand caressed Erika's the two spun around the box, until at last Erik pulled her to a stop and kissed her, and then Erika spun away and perfected the dance by twirling back into Erik's arms. Erika stood still for a moment, the greatest day of her life, never to be forgotten, at least not until she heard a voice from behind her and Erik.

"Well, what have we here? A pair of love birds perhaps?" Erika broke out of Erik's arms from shock, and he turned, Erika did the same, the Lady Death figure outside the door.

"My god! Will you please not do that!" Erik shouted, Erika stood confused.

"I'm so sorry Red, but you just looked so cute with your little friend..." Lady Death laughed to herself, Erika stepped forward, in front of Erik, only to have him grab her arm and pulled her back, his arms around her.

"And what brings you here Morgan?" asked Erik. Erika gasped and broke out of Erik's hold and snatched away Lady Death's mask, and behind it, surely enough was Morgan, Erika took a few steps back out of shock.

"Do you know what rhymes with Masquerade? Let me answer for you, charade. This entire thing is a hoax, but I don't have to act that way, I can be myself because no one would know it was me behind that mask." Morgan growled and snatched the mask out of Erika's hand an returned it to her face. "Thanks a lot Erik. You've blown my cover, and now, Ms. Changy is probably going to run to my mom and tell her that I'm the one behind Lady Death." Morgan stood and tapped her foot, but Erika wouldn't budge.

"I _would _do that, but I know a secret about you, and now you know a secret about Erik and I, so why would I tell them about you when you would tell about us?" Morgan was silent for a moment, and Erika wrapped her hands around Erik's shoulders, leaving her ring in plain view. Morgan smiled.

"Now, we've got a story to tell." Erik smiled over his shoulder, and Erika smiled back, her eyes glowing the luring passionate purple. Erika walked in front of Morgan.

"No Morgan, you're wrong, this'll be a story to tell." And with that Erika turned around and kissed Erik as she had the first time. Morgan stood, leaning against the door smiling, but pulled Erika away.

"And as for Alan? What about him?" Erika laughed and fell into Erik's arms.

"He'll never have to know."

Part 3

The Angel's love flourishes, and William is discovered.

Chapter Seventeen

The ball is over, no one mentioned Red Death nor the mystery of Lady Death. Erika's nineteenth birthday had recently passed, and no one other then Alan would ask her of Erik's true person. Alan's proposal was not forgotten, but whenever their wedding was planned, a disaster would be fall the Populaire. Erika kept her promise and trained in the ballet dormitories, training still to be a dancer, and also learning to sing from Erik's beloved teachings. Every so often, when there was a role which called for a phenomenal talent, managers would call upon Erika, leading into the rumors of her tutor, and gleefully, she always excepted, then every evening, after the gala, she and her angel would reunite in Box Five, where he would often tell her of how beautifully she had sung. Many had still believed Erik dead, but every now and again a note would appear signed by the O.G., leaving many in shock, and leaving the mystery of twenty thousand francs vanishing from box five unsolved. Now, two years later, Erika, Alan, and Erik, are in a major crisis...

befa

Alan sat down on the faded sofa, which now was almost falling apart at the seems, and colors fully faded.

"Erika, why do you need to talk? If this is about my mother's passing-" Alan fell silent and clicked his heels. Erika sighed and sat down on vanity as she brushed through her hair.

"Listen Alan, this isn't about you, it's about me, I hate to say it, and I'm not allowed to leave the opera because of these cursed wings, tell me Alan. Do you ever regret having a normal life?"

befa

Raoul stood inside his office, Meg across from him, Morgan sitting beside her mother.

"She'll want to be able to leave soon Meg...What are we going to do?" Meg looked to Morgan, her head hung low, she knew what would happen, it was a gift that Morgan had been developing over the past few years, surges telling her things, like how she was meant to be the one behind the mask of Lady Death, about Erik's return, everything. Morgan looked up and it suddenly just spilled out of her.

"She hasn't even tried to leave yet...and besides; she can't leave, she promised." Meg glared at Morgan and covered her daughter's mouth with her hands and growled in her ear.

"You don't talk about these thing around Erika's father, we have to be careful dear..."

Raoul hadn't seemed to notice, he was now sitting at his desk rummaging through the scattered clippings from papers about Erik, Raoul lifted a small clipping, on the front of the bound pictures was a young boy inside a cage, his back to the photographer, Raoul read the article aloud.

"'At a recent fairground, a freak show had been held, a young boy, merely known to workers as 'The Devil's Boy', had escaped and the ringmaster, others at the fair had said this; 'The boy had never been able to escape from the cage on his own, he's tried many times and failed, I don't see what made him able to do it all of a sudden.' The young boy is said to be dead, but there is a current search for him among the fairground.'" Raoul finished the clipping, and spoke directly to Meg and Morgan. "They had stopped searches after a year, they never found Erik..." Then it finally hit him. "She 'promised' not to leave? To who?" Raoul frown, Morgan grimaced and Mme. Giry scolded her daughter.

"No used now Morgan, might as well tell him." Meg growled, and Morgan swallowed nervously.

"Well, she promised Erik she wouldn't leave..."

Chapter eighteen

A Grave confronting

Alan blinked dumbfounded, and asked in confusion.

"What exactly do you mean?" Erika groaned, but firmly held her ground, or at least tried to without hovering.

"I mean, I hate it Alan, I can't even go for a simple walk out in the streets...I want to be able to go outside and be seen as someone normal, just to even be able to walk in a crowd and not be stared at."

Erika felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, turning to see Erik wearing a gentle smile.

"Why, isn't that what we all want?" Alan rose in shock, not believing his eyes, and pointed to Erik in astonishment.

"Your..alive!" Alan managed to stutter.

"of course I'm alive! What did you think I just fell off the face of the Earth?" Erik and Erika laughed in unison, Alan stood mouth agape, Erika stood, realizing Alan's ring upon her hand, looked to her hand to see nothing there.

"My ring! It's gone!" Erika's eyes began to flood with tears. And she looked from Alan to Erik, and surely enough, rolling around in Erik's pale palm, was Erika's ring. Erik laughed and tossed the ring in the air, but rather the catching with his hand at first, he bounced it off his shoe, allowing it to land in his hand.

"Erik! Stop!" Erika cried, and Erik listened obediently.

"Fine, go and ruin my fun." Erik threw the ring in the air, simply snapped his fingers while the ring was in mid-air, and it re-appeared on Erika's hand. Alan took a step forward, Erik looked past him at Erik, and saw Erika wink, telling him she had been acting. Erik smiled and turned his attention back to Erik.

"Listen Erik, I don't know who you think you are, and I don't know what you're doing here, but because of you and your disasters, Erika and I haven't been able to have our wedding, and beside that fact-" Erik burst into hysterics and Erika's eyes fell to her feet.

"My dear boy, didn't she tell you?" Erik said through his laughter, Alan was in confusion and looked to Erika, her voice was small and unheard.

"...Erik and I..we..um, well.." Erika managed to murmur, but Erik looked to her, his expression troubled, seeing the difficulty Erika was having trying to tell Alan, so he spoke for her.

"I believe two years ago, when you and Erika had been in my private box, you proposed to her, but noticed a ring around already upon her hand, did you not? That was also a wedding ring, from me," Erik smiled and Erika nodded her head, almost gleefully, but walked to Alan's side.

"He's right Alan, I did promise him, that's why I've stayed in the Populaire for all these years, I would have left by now.." Erika turned her head to Erik. "Had it not been for my angel."

Chapter nineteen

Raoul continued his rush through the opera hall, around him, people continued on without a care, unusual considering that the land they stood on was haunted. Raoul stopped to catch his breath, where was he to look, he probably only had once chance to help his daughter, so he chose the one place he believed Erik would be; his private box. Raoul picked up speed as he ran up the staircase into a place he did most dread, but before Raoul could turn, Mann grabbed his arm, in his hand; a note.

"Not again!" Raoul groaned, Mann tried to smile, but held the note out, and rather then the note being sealed with a dreaded red skull, it was sealed with a golden rose. "What is this?" Raoul asked, expecting the seal to be a skull, he slowly opened the letter, which now read in beautiful, fluent, golden letters.

You are hereby invited:

To the wedding of O.G. and Erika de Changy,

this ceremony will take place in one week in the Paris graveyard.

Below this was the address of the cemetery.

We surely hope you shall join us four this glorious night.

Sincerely yours,

O.G. and Mrs. Erika De Changy

And what frightened Raoul most was that the entire note, with the exception of Erik's signature was written in the same swerve and sway of Erika's. Raoul ran his hand over the golden ink, and some of it stuck to his hand, for it was still wet. Raoul re-sealed the note and placed it in his front pocket. Mann stood in complete confusion.

"Well Monsieur, what did it say?" Mann had read every note written by the Opera Ghost, and he wished to know why this note seemed to torment Raoul so. Raoul shook his head and began his walk down the corridor.

"This is not going to happen.." Raoul murmured and he left.

befa

Meg lead Morgan back to her dressing room.

"Mom I'm sorry, it was just getting on my nerves having to keep all of it-" Meg turned and glared at her daughter.

Now you have just put one of your grandmother's greatest acquaintances in danger!" Meg began to yell but caught herself. "And don't apologize, it's my fault. I should have explain this gift to you at age ten so you would have been ready for this..." Morgan frowned, and inhaled deeply.

_Now or never..._

"Mom, do you remember Lady Death?"

Chapter twenty

A fire raged between Alan and Erik, the two continuously getting at each other's throats, Alan had dragged Erika into it, but she remained silent, standing between them like a mother separating her fighting sons.

"Look at you Alan, you step all over Erika!" Erik barked.

"Oh yes, we sinners take special care to wipe off our boots before trampling the wings of an angel!" Alan remarked sarcastically, Erik's face now red with fury.

"And I presume in America it's against the law to ask someone you love for their hand in marriage?" The mirror's entrance had been left open, and Erik heard a small mew from behind him, he turned to see Ayeshea, her pelt shaggy as she licked her paw and brushed it behind her ear.

"Ayeshea!" Erik shouted at the cat, which merely lifted her head and meowed back mockingly.

"Well look at this, Erik, the high and mighty Opera Ghost, having a kitten fight his battles for him!" Alan laughed, but Erik laughed too. Alan stopped and Erik grinned and asked Alan calmly.

"You're from America, New York rather, do you have a reputation, back home?" Alan was baffled but smirked.

"Well duh!" Erik grinned at his response.

"So do I. I've been called a madman, a genius, a composer, a musician, a magician..._murder..."_ Erik simply rolled up his sleeves, and snapped his hands, and a piece of rope with a loop at the end appeared in his hands. "Do you know what this is Alan?" Alan shook his head. "This is my weapon of choice."  
Erik snapped his fingers again and the rope appeared around Alan's neck, as though to hang him, Alan now was dangling in mid-air, still alive though, but just barely. Erika gasped and grabbed Erik's arm and shouted at him sternly.

"Erik stop this! It's not right!" Erik turned away and swiped his hand through the air, cutting the lasso loose. Alan feel to the floor, gasping for breath, Alan ran his hand over the rim of his neck, around his neck was a mark where the noose had been, still feeling the burn, Alan looked up, and glared at the duo.

"Some Angels."

Erik heard this and slowly walked out of the dressing room, Erika held her ground, and tear drops drizzled down her cheek, Alan tried to hold her hand but she pulled away and pointed to the door of the dressing room, Alan nodded and left Erika in the darkness of the room.

Chapter twenty one

Erik strolled through the halls, every soul parted from his way, not wanting to have to face the wrath of the Opera Ghost. Erik made his way down the hallway, and saw Morgan standing by Meg, Morgan's head hung low, not facing the angel. Erik stopped in front of them, a few gasped. But others stood in silence. Meg nodded, and Morgan follow suit glumly. Erik shook his head depressingly and moved through the corridor. He stopped when he saw man outside Raoul's office, holding Erika's note in his hand. Erik stopped in front of Mann. Mann's eyes widened and he bowed. Erik grinned and remarked.

"I hope you will be attending with Monsieur Changy next week." Erik walked past Mann and opened the door to Raoul's office. "Mr. Changy…" Erik growled as he entered the office. Everything fell silent when Erik entered the office and the door closed, everyone, even Meg, moved closer to the door to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Mann…what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be planning your appointment for next week?" Raoul was placing a book back on a shelf as Erik sat down, Raoul had his back to Erik, not knowing it was him.

"No Monsieur, but you should perhaps turn around. You might not like what you see though." Raoul began to speak as he turned.

"And why would-" Raoul almost feel back in shock as soon as he saw it was Erik resting in the chair. "…Erik. What are you doing in my office?" Erik laughed.

"What are _you_ doing in my opera house?" Raoul glared and slammed his hand on his desk.

"You cannot be here Erik, have you seen the amount of people around? You aren't permitted to be in the opera hall." Erik burst into hysterics.

"Ah, yes. I need permission to be in my own opera. Very funny. And I was just stopping by, I mean I just happened to be in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd check in to see if you were going to join your daughter and I in the graveyard next week." Erik asked calmly. Raoul turned and pulled a book of the shelf.

"My daughter isn't getting married Erik. I won't permit it!" Raoul shouted. Erik grinned, and looked around the office, seeing a mirror in the corner of the room.

"I'm surprised there's a mirror in this room. Ever since that torture chamber incident all those years ago." Erik grinned and snapped his fingers, the mirror opened and Erik rose and walked out of the room into the mirror, but turned and stated, causing Raoul to jump unexpectedly.

"Next week Raoul. Next week." Erik laughed as he walked into the corridor.

Chapter twenty two

Erik made his way down the corridor, laughing at Raoul, but heard the Monsieur's voice say from behind him as he exited.

"You're the devil in flesh Erik. The devil in flesh."

Erik soon made his way to the lake and grabbed the boat and placed it in the water.

The Opera Ghost couldn't help but chuckle as he stroked his way ever closer to his home on the end of the manmade lake. It had been too easy; far too easy to scare the old man into belief once again. He then laughed aloud as he thought about how Raoul had leaped right out of his skin from fright if the specter had decided to allow the older theater owner to even catch a brief glimpse of him. He had heard the managers plotting the stake out as he was returning from teaching Erika and found the situation far too good to pass on.  
"Am I the Devil?" he snickered quietly a smile still plastered from under the white leather of his mask. "My dear monsieur you have no idea how right you are." The small boat gently brushed against the black stone platform and the sound of gypsy music suddenly filled his head.   
Plagues of beatings and hateful words suddenly began to fill and swarm his mind as flies swarm taffy in the summer afternoons. 'Monster', 'Abomination' 'Freak'…All of those words and hateful memories consumed him. He grew dizzy and began to sway as the music continued and filled him with more horrid nightmares from his past. He groaned in pain as his back suddenly began to burst out in spasms of pain that were all too familiar to him. "Damn it all…Damn it all….Stop that infernal noise!" he suddenly screamed out angrily.  
The music stopped long enough for the Phantom to regain composure and enter the only place he truly felt safe. His brother was settled in his large Persian chair looking at frustration at the man. The violin tucked under his chin immediately alerted the masked man that it was his own sibling who had provided the chilling tune. "You know how I feel about you playing that music William," he growled darkly, tossing his cloak harshly to the floor.  
"Perhaps that is why I enjoy playing it so, Erik," the violinist answered bravely. "Perhaps it's the danger and horrid memories that come from it that makes it so worth hearing." The younger brother made no sign of fear as the larger man approached him with a menace that would send any normal man running for his life.  
"The gypsy music is never to be played down here again! Am I clear?" William said nothing as he tapped the bow against his knee before pointing it accusingly at the masked man.  
"How can you deny me my right to play music, Erik? No one has the right to deny a man his right to play music."  
"That is not music," the boy stated stiffly through gritted teeth. "That is the sound of pure evil." He suddenly released a cry of agony and grasped his back as it once again began to send sharp waves of pain up and down his spine. The violinist dropped his instrument and quickly rushed over to grab a hold of his brother before he fell to the floor. "Do you see? Do you see what that music does to me?"  
William said noting as he guided the Opera Ghost into a separate room where a large black coffin lay. It was not the coffin he settled his brother at however; but a finely sculpted cherry wood rocking chair. Designs of horses and minstrels had been carved into the wood by one who could be considered one of the finest craftsmen to ever walk the earth. The older boy gently began to rock back and forth trying to calm himself and think of fonder memories so that the pains would diminish.  
"I'm sorry Erik." The younger boy made his way over to the coffin and sat on top of it before once again looking over at the brother whom he had spent his entire life with. "I had forgotten what that music does to you when you hear it."  
The Opera Ghost said nothing; he only kept his eyes shut as he continued rocking himself. The violinist bit his lip and said nothing else. He only watched as his older brother swayed and almost became one with the object. Even his gentle movement of rocking the chair seemed to flow with an elegance that could not be described. Perhaps an hour had passed before the Phantom once again opened his eyes and sat up from the chair.  
The older boy said nothing but left the confinements of the room and stepped over to the Persian chair where his brother had been earlier and discovered a single sheet of music paper filled with complicated notes. "Is this all you were able to compose in this much time?" he asked, his voice filled with disappointment.  
Insulted, the younger boy quickly snatched the sheet away from the ungrateful Opera Ghost. "Perhaps there would be more if I had a little assistance from the other composer of Don Juan Erik," he snapped bitterly as he moved over a large safe. He turned the knob in a long series of complicated turns and twists that finally gave him access. Within the confines was not only thousands upon thousands of francs, but also a much more treasured possession; the manuscript for the brothers' opera: Don Juan Triumphant. After locking the new sheet safely with the other compositions, William turned angrily on the mask of the character he knew as his brother. "Where were you, Erik? It never takes you this long to teach that project of yours."  
"Her name is Erika," he answered sourly. "And if you must know, I was simply keeping the spirit of the Opera Ghost alive."  
"So, you have time for her and the Ghost; but the opera can simply be tossed out like an old handkerchief, is that it Erik?" The masked man only glared at his brother. "You scowl. You complain that there is not more being done with our opera; but Erik I cannot and will not write this alone!" He then growled and stormed over to another part of the large where a large, half-finished, wooden structure was settled; a half-finished sculpture of a lady angel. The younger always had an interest in creating objects from pieces of wood. He felt that if such majestic and beautiful creations of God, such as tree, had to be cut down that they must be transformed into something truly worth looking at.  
He had started whittling at the age of six using small pieces of wood that his elder provided for him and from there he began to broaden his skills. He would go out during the day as he grew older and observe carpenters construct beds, chairs and creatures from slabs of wood. The young boy took in everything he saw and it was not very long before he started creating furniture for their living quarters. The elder had no patience for working with the wood; for his brother was always contradicting him the moment he picked up the chisel.   
'No, Erik, turn your wrist with the blow of the mallet to make the curves smooth.' 'Erik! Not so hard! You're making a piece of art, not driving a nail into a railroad track!' Eventually the older sibling gave up trying and left the woodworking skills to his younger brother and focused his attention instead on creating different inventions such as trick walls, magical mirrors and even devastating traps for those who wished either of them harm. With all the skills and ingenuity of a master craftsman, William was able to produce wooden furniture and sculptures that would impress even the Shah of Persia.  
The wooden angel was not like any of his other projects which he usually finished within a reasonable lapse of time. He had begun working on the sculpture four years prior and still it remained unfinished. He put so much thought and detail into every slight tap of the mallet. The amount of concentration that the young man put into his sculpture would truly devour him and nothing from the outside world could reach him once he became consumed with his work.  
The young violinist always went to work on the piece whenever he got upset or frustrated. Picking up a rubber mallet and a curved chisel, he began to work on it. The Opera Ghost quickly approached him knowing if he didn't speak soon; it would make more sense to speak to a wall than his sibling. Once the boy became infatuated with his work, he would be impossible to speak will until he finally got tired and would put his tools away.  
"William, I can only do so much at once. If I am to have her ready for the opening night of the opera I have to spend a great deal of time with her. As for the Opera Ghost, without him there is no reason for this theater owner to comply with our demands."  
Dropping the mallet to the floor, the younger brother turned to stare at the man coldly. "And what of the time before her lessons Erik?" he growled. "What of the time when she belongs to the rest of the world and not to you? Where are you then? Stalking and watching over her like some possessed demon!" He released a sound of disgust as he ran a hand lovingly down one of the carved wings attached to the angel. "That could be easily spent on Don Juan or at least those magnificent contraptions of yours." He sighed sadly dropping his head. "What a waste, what a waste that all that amazing talent is going to waste."  
"I would hardly call Erika de Changy a waste!" the eldest hissed viciously. " And our opera will continue to progress. You simply need to continue trying at it and I will try and join you when I find the time."  
"You mean when Miss Changy leaves the theater," the violinist growled. "God knows if she desired so, you would be able to manage her all twenty-four hours of your time." He snorted once more and turned back to his brother. "I will work on this opera when you decide you too can find time for it."  
"Stop being so selfish!" the masked boy began to shout suddenly barked. "This opera is too important to be tossed aside because of some jealous phase you are going through!"  
"It's too important Erik?" William retorted with a sneer. "Not more important than making the manager scream like children and certainly not more important than Miss Changy." He turned back to the angel and continued to caress it lovingly. "Why do you not simply teach her in the flesh during rehearsal so that time is not wasted by you gawking over her?" The Phantom 's fists clenched tightly with rage as he glowered hatefully down at the impudent child and then pointed a shaking finger at him his voice cracking with fury.  
"You have no idea what it's like!" He ripped the leather mask from his face and flung it aggressively to the ground. His eyes glowing brightly as his wrath continued to grow. "You do not have to hide behind a mask! You flourish and are fawned by any woman who lays her eyes upon you! You can walk down the streets of Paris with your naked face exposed and are admired and greeted by all passer by! You could not possibly know what it is like to have to hide like this!"   
Releasing a snarl of rage, the violinist threw the chisel strait across the room with the Phantom close behind not wanting his sibling to go off before finishing his word with him. The deformed man froze however when the violinist grabbed a metal firepower from the flames and turned to him with a look of complete madness. The Opera Ghost had begun to step back fearing that his sibling had meant to strike him with the burning weapon and released a cry as his wrist was suddenly grasped firmly preventing him from retreating any further. The expression of fear on the man's face however changed to confusion as the scolding poker was forced into his hands.  
"Show me then!" William boomed staring defiantly into the sunken eyes of his elder brother. "Use it Erik! Burn my face! Distort it! Ruin it!" The violinist whole body trembled as he stood still awaiting for the Phantom to unleash his wrath. The elder however did nothing but just stare at his sibling in disbelief. "Do not falter Erik! It will cool quickly and lose its ability to do my face harm!" He eyes narrowed into dark slits when the elder continued to do nothing. "You want me to understand what it's like to have to live as you do, so follow through and let me have to share the burden of your fate!" The anger in the young boy then slowly diminished into sadly as he stared pleadingly at the Opera Ghost. "Help me to understand Erik," he whispered. "Teach me so that I can learn to be more understanding."  
A loud clang then echoed through the large area as the firepower dropped harmlessly to the hard stone floor. The older brother knew that everything that his brother has asked of him was not a bluff. He would stand there as his face was burned and never hold it against him.  
"It's madness," the older boy whispered suddenly. "It's madness the length of what you will go through for me." The violinist suddenly fell to his knees and began sobbing loudly as he kept his head lowered.  
"I'd die for you Erik!" He cried before looking back up right into the sunken eyes of his elder with a devotion that knew no ends. "I would die to make you happy!" The older boy quickly kneeled down and wrapped his arms around his dearest companion holding him close.  
"I sometime forget," the Opera Ghost started quietly. "How truly lucky I am to have you." He began to lovingly stroke back the younger brother's hair to help calm him.  
"You know I would, Erik?" William whispered into his dearest brother's ear as his grip on the older boy's dress shirt tightened as though his life depended on it. "I would gladly give my life for you."  
"Do not speak of such things, William. You have already done more for me than any other man ever has." The two brothers suddenly pulled out of their embrace and simply stared at each other in silence. A Face of death and a face of life: ugliness and beauty: black and white. In all of the years spent in the Opera Populaire, all the two really had were each other to keep each other company and alive. The Phantom knew that Erika's success was something that he needed to get done, but also knew that he must never take for granted one of the very few people, just one of two, who had seen his face for the very first time, and smiled. Erik rose and extended his hand.

"It just feels good to know, that if there's ever a time, when I need someone, that you'll be there William." Erik smiled and suddenly a crash came from behind the two, Erik and William turned and saw Erika standing in the doorway, rubbing her arm.

"Is there something-"she turned and saw William. "-or someone I missed?"

Erika and Erik's wedding day, from Erik's view:

_As I watched, she slowly lifted the veil back from her face, just as a bride does, and I was able to see the black shadows beneath eyes that brimmed and overflowed with tears. With trembling hands she removed my mask and let it flutter to the floor between us; then her fingers crept hesitantly to the smooth lapels of my dress coat._

A moment longer she stood, like a terrified swimmer on the top of a dizzying cliff, contemplating the plunge that was utterly beyond her courage.

'Erik,' she whispered. 'I promise, as long as I live, that never, not even if under a threat to death, my dearest angel, I will never leave you... And I pray, that our love will last until the last petal falls….' And I remember, ever so clearly, and I said slowly back to her, as I have learned so all these years:

_  
'If I am the Phantom, it is because man's hatred has made me so... If I shall be saved, it will be because your love redeems me.'_

_  
...and then I was suddenly no longer the teacher, but the pupil...for her arms were around my neck, her caressing hands an insistent pressure against my skull, drawing me forward with unbelievable strength into her embrace._

When her lips closed over mine I tasted the salt of tears, but it was impossible to say whether they were mine or hers... But I know, that never again, must an angel worry of being alone


End file.
